frostbite
by aestheticisms
Summary: His kisses leave you cold. -Jack Frost, Toothiana.
1. in media res

frostbite

(in media res)

"What's the point pretending that you could be a better man  
Just give in, since you always end up right back where you began  
Still I know the truth, but I have a sweet tooth..."

- You're A Cad, The Bird and The Bee

* * *

His touch was cool, sickeningly tender. He cooed while stroking her jeweled feathers, pressing fingertips against appendages, without disregard to the noises of discomfort emitting from her slightly parted lips. Her skin was freckled with goose bumps, surface area condensing and squirming to get away from his touch, cold, cold touch.

"Oh come on, Tooth," he drawled, fingers moving from head to wrist, grip tightening on her green feathered limb. She let out a small scream, numbed by her fear, and the intensity of his voice, smooth and crystal, a glossy surface of a frozen lake, with little, subtle cracks—little pockets of insanity, glinting gaze piercing. "Just like we used to, just me and you, dancing!" He pressed her wiry frame against his sticks and stones skeleton and Toothiana's wings fluttered, sending vibrations through her body and to the boy holding her hostage. She willed herself to stop, stop her heart from pounding against her rib cage, to stop her feathers from shaking, stop herself from losing control.

He noticed her struggle, and only smiled viciously, pearly whites she once adored menacing in the dark. They move in a four four, a frenetic foxtrot sent them around the floor, he dipped her and twirled her around like a china doll, while she clawed at his arms.

"Who are you?" She demanded, clenching her fists while trying to shake him off her. If he moved one inch, she would be able to fly, and that would be enough, she chanted, as he laughed. His laughter was colder than she remembered, it's a blizzard to her ears, chilled every hollow bone she owned.

"Coming from miss memory herself, the question's kind of concerning," he loosened his grip on her wrists for a second before pressing her against a wall of the sewers, her wings twitched and spasmed upon hitting the ivy strewn and water stained concrete. Tooth let out a low hiss, violet eyes burning with an angry frenzy. He lets out another chuckle, and pressed his forehead against hers, white hair brushing against her nose and cheeks, snatches of happier, less traumatizing times flashed in her mind's eye, and Toothiana forced herself to forget about his charismatic grin, and nippy kisses and—

His lips move against her skin, cold peppermint breath leaving raw skin wherever feathers didn't accomodate. His kisses are robotic, cruel to a point, teeth left bruises and scratches whenever she failed to retaliate, to dodge and fidget and move. She let out an unintentional groan, and started to formulate plans, grab a hold of anything, she needed to get out, she needed to escape, Tooth sought guidance from the panorama behind the frost spirit, for anything that would be able to assist her…

A flicker of scarlet, clementine.

Fire.

Jack murmured threats in a soft baritone, he will freeze every feather on her body, one by one, watch her squirm and squeal and suffer until she is powerless under his touch, he will use her as a gambling chip against the other guardians, and if she was lucky, he would promote her to songbird status, keeping her in a gilded cage in his room where she would be his to play with, for eternity.

"No wonder they call it frostbite, a kiss from good ol' Jack," he said almost cheerfully.

Tooth had no time to waste, she stared straight into his silver gaze, distant and blistering cold. For a moment, one little moment, she recognized the boy she loves.

The moment is over.

She headbutted the spirit's face, watched a beautiful incisor pop out of his bloody mouth, and she ran for it, wings taking her higher and father from the white haired wraith. He snarled and she flew, tiptoeing around vicious winds while chasing after the flicker of light that gave her hope. If she was to make it out alive, she would need a flame.

The sewers were spacious, their architecture ripped out of a MC Escher sketchbook, she wondered if they had always been this way, twisting ladders never reaching the outside world, and glistening and grimy rivers of trash never finding an end.

No time to think about that, she scolded herself. The torch was right in front of her, if she just went a bit faster, reached her hand a bit more, her fingertips would just graze the wooden stick that kept the fire alive and burning and

Out.

Her fire was out. The tooth fairy, decadent and vibrant whipped around only to scream. A winter dominated the once gray landscape, icicles lined the walkways, ladders were turned on themselves, ice paved the concrete. Jack Frost's murderous, wild stare focused on her, and only her. His staff was gnarled, coiled, burnt and black.

Pitch black.

Toothiana brought her fists up in the air, summoning whatever she could from the earth, magic pulsing through her veins like lightning—green enveloped her vision and being. Jack brought his staff forward, and the last thing she remembered was the weight of his body against hers, locked in a danse macabre, lips against hers and staff at her neck.


	2. before

(before)

**perniosis**

"Oohhh, when I'm around you I'm predictable  
Cause I believe in loving you at first sight  
I know it's crazy but I'm hoping to..  
To take a hold of you."

- So Contagious, Acceptance

They hold hands to keep each other warm.

* * *

"Jack Frost, at your service, m'lady." His grin was wicked, sarcastic and jovial all at the same time, he was the epitome of _fun fun fun_!, and she found him absolutely fascinating. His teeth glitter behind chapped lips, licked by ice and wind, and it takes every ounce of willpower she owns to stop her hands from prying open his mouth and giving his pearly whites a look over. He was a complete gentleman, despite his snarky demeanor, giving her a slight bow, and a held hand, his lips brushed against her feathered fingers, leaving little specks of white behind.

Babytooth reminded the fairy queen of her duty, and the woman recomposed her blushing self with slight disease, granting the frost spirit a smile and introduction.

"Toothiana, queen of the fairies." She paused for a second, a look of confusion flickered across the eternal youth's features, his periwinkle gaze confused for a moment. "Most refer to me as the tooth fairy." Toothiana flashed what she supposed was a charming grin, and placed her hands on her jade hips. Her little helper buzzed and whirred near her ear, whispering about teeth to be collected, things to be done, and for the time being, the fairy ignored her responsibilities.

But only for a second, she chastised herself, while Jack Frost in his boyish way, flicked white bangs back, and readjusted his stylized, dusted staff in his left hand. He offered his right to his guest, the forest around them suddenly very cold and very foreign, Toothiana knew of orange skies and decadent palaces, Jack's forest home was a winter wasteland, trees grew in all directions, limbs gnarled and gangly, leaves long gone, trapped under the feet of packed powder snow. The night sky was brilliant, though, she reasoned. Its stars were bright, in a constant state of supernova, exploding in the celestial heavens, if she looked close enough, if she stared long enough, she swore they shined just for her,

Just for them, maybe, she thought, when she let him hold her hand. Their fingers twine perfectly, her hummingbird heartbeat keeps them warm, the blood rushed to the surface to combat his chill caress, he laughed when she rolled her eyes in response to his attempt to create friction between his hoodie and his hand. He was afraid of freezing her, he said, after a beat.

"Why do we bother with formalities every time we meet?" she whispered while they waltzed through the snow drifts and roots, their feet only touched the ground when they were to sight see and marvel at some winter oddity, a flower with a bright red hue, or a glittering stone. He shrugged, and turned to face her, taking her hands in his, silver eyes locked on her ultraviolet. His fingers played with her emerald feathers, rubbed circles on her wrists, her wings slowed to a soft vibrato as he spoke.

"It's comfortable like this, just you and me, always meeting again. When was the last time we spoke? '24?" He granted her a lopside grin, her grip on his hands softened, her hands traveled up to his face, palm cupping cheek, digits pressed against his soft lips.

"1924 was quite the year…"

"Plus, it's like," the boy fumbled for words in the atmosphere, as if staring at the spot right between her eyes would grant him unlimited knowledge, his fingers traced lines on her face, while she tied knots in his hoodie drawstring. He was winter incarnate, she tilted her head in thought. Everything about him was cold, but she knew what was inside was brighter than the sun.

He was radiant, really.

"It's like falling in love several times, every single time it's a new rush, a new experience," his words fall like snowflakes on her cheeks, she kissed him before he had the chance to finish.

"It's wonderful, Jack."

She really means it, as he wrapped her in his arms, and pressed her closer to his chest.

* * *

**notes:**

**WOW OKAY WOW I AM DIGGING THE FEEDBACK THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR FOLLOWING REVIEWING WOW OKAY SMOOCHES ALL OF YOU**

**I tend to be more coherent in these notes, but aha wow, this is amazing, and just thank you so much oh my gosh.**

**The chapter titles are taken from horrible ice-related diseases. Please do not look them up. : ' )**

**This piece will be five chapters long, and has no set chronological order. I will eventually reveal Jack's path to his darker state in the first chapter, so, worry not.**

**Thank you, once again!**


	3. intermission

(intermission)

**acrocyanosis**

"When we were young, oh oh, we did enough  
When it got cold, ooh ooh, we bundled up  
I can't be told, ah ah it can't be done."

- Stubborn Love, The Lumineers

He was wearing a bramble of thorns on his head like a crown, and she couldn't help but gasp at the sight.

* * *

Toothiana was a busy woman, that was a common, and well known fact. The only Guardian to work year-round, yessiree, no one knew work like the Tooth Fairy. It was a comfort, really, the set schedules and routines, the baby faced fairy helpers, the mostly unexpected visitor on her palace doorstep. She enjoyed the regularity, the expected highs and lows—unpredictable events were simply not her cup of tea.

But, despite her love for the clockwork-like rhythm, the last item on her list of favorite things became more of an anomaly as the years went on. The frost spirit that would accompany her travels during the warmer months was uncharacteristically absent from the Guardian's celebration of the summer solstice.

Bunnymund shot out in a wry chuckle that maybe she was working him too hard, it only took seconds for her cheeks to flame and flare, and for her vocal chords to stutter out an explanation that disproved the Easter bunny's less than innocent suggestion. The hare simply rolled his eyes, and turned his attention to North, who was fiddling with a miniature rocket, the icy replica whirred around his hands, as an unsettling fog settled around the Guardians. North's Yeti companions were nervous, making more mistakes than usual, dropping pricy hors d'oeuvres and champagne glasses at a moment's notice, the elves were getting themselves tangled in lights and strings, even Sandy was acting strange, the Guardian of Dreams was wide awake, and alert, as if expecting an attack. Question marks lingered above his golden head, the amount multiplying with every ticking second.

They all turned to her, and Toothiana had nothing to say. Babytooth floated above her shoulders, staring at the queen of fairies with a sad expression. She patted down her feathers, and rolled her shoulders back, before she let out a sigh she hadn't been aware she was holding.

The toy rocket landed below her small feet, lay on the tiled floor in shards of snow and dust.

"Ey mate, you leave a bloody window open, North? I'm feelin' a chill comin' on." Bunnymund hated the cold, everyone knew that.

North shook his head in the negative, and Sandy made some sort of gurgling noise, the palace was shivering, shuddering, before a great big boom shook the air.

For one second, just a moment in the fabric of time and space, they all stared in shock and worry—they were in complete and utter stupor.

The moment ended, and they were up in arms. They ran to the source of the noise.

All except one.

Toothiana stayed behind. She could hold her own in battle, that's not the problem. Her ultraviolet eyes were wide, and knowing, and just a bit scared, when she raised her hand up to her line of sight.

Her fingertips were covered in ice.

Fuschia nails she loved and adored were a pale blue, her emerald feathers were coated in powder snow, and the color only travelled up her arms at an alarming rate.

He was angry.

So, so angry. She could hear his emotional fit of rage from where she stood, North's extravagant lobby was a kingdom of ice and cold. His opulent globe was flickering on and off, lights unstable and terrifying. Wind whipped around her, each cold caress chilled to her the bone, she shook and she trembled, but she never looked away from the air, snowflakes danced and twirled and dropped almost violently onto the floor, revealing their hero, their heir.

Jack Frost stood in the ebony ice, back straight, silver hair windswept and gorgeous, skin off-white and dying. There are leaves and twigs on his hood, the fabric of his jeans is torn and washed out. He was wearing a bramble of thorns on his head like a crown, and she couldn't help but gasp at the sight.

So she raised her weapon, a whip fashioned from vines and sunflower stalks. He shook his head, staff in his hand. The wood is darker than she remembers it, the color of ash and debris.

"Hey, Tooth." His smile doesn't reach his eyes, the words fall flat against the disaster brewing down below. The North Pole was up in flames, and she wasn't sure who to blame at this point.

It couldn't be Jack. It just couldn't.

"Jack, what's going on?" She kept her voice steady, kept it calm without a hint of the desperation she was feeling strangle her throat. Her blue hands are forgotten among the insanity, she walked towards the boy she is in love with.

His face is that of a stranger's.

"I'm better now, Tooth. Everything's fantastic, actually." His grin was terrifying. He waved his staff around, and even his already bone frame looked hallow, he was a breathing skeleton. "I had a chat with the higher ups, made a good friend, and things are just going great." He breathed out the word with a puff of a ice, and she shied away from the cold air. He closed the distance between them, hanged his arms around her shoulders, and pushed her against his chest.

"I'm stronger now." He stared into her eyes, and she saw the abyss. The abyss is frigid, the abyss is blue, it's a fathomless color, it's periwinkle, it's glacier, it's the sky on a bad, bad day, it's the color of a forewarned apocalypse, it's the color of her lips when they press against the hollow of his collarbone. It's the color of his face when she slapped him away.

His eyes are contradictory shades, they are blue, they are yellow.

They are poisoned.

He was on the ground after her palm leaves his chest, he was recoiling from the hit. She was livid, she was angry, she was burning brighter than the sun outside the ravaged palace, she heard the sound of horses and wicked chaos, and screeches from the world beyond.

"Who are you, and what did you do to Jack?" She screamed and brandished her whip, the crack of vines are enough to get the boy into battle mode, he parried her attacks with a flick and twirl of his staff, ice covered the ground, but neither of them are too bothered by the change in conditions, they fight airborne. "Pitch did this, didn't he?"

Jack shrugged nonchalantly, and charges at the fairy queen, throwing her against a mirrored wall of the palace. His hands are at her neck, fingertips bruise feathered flesh. She scratched at his chest, anything to get him off of her.

"Yeah, I guess he did. It was a good trade, really. He believed in me."

Toothiana froze.

Belief.

Was that why the boy of her dreams, in his longing for faith, sided with their sworn enemy? Was he really that broken, underneath his mischievous smile and charming way?

My god, I'm a failure.

She could've saved him.

She could've she could've she could've—

His grip loosened, and she wrestled him off her tiny frame, flying skyward as soon as she sent the boy tumbling down. He landed on a broken heap of toys, the ruins probed his skin, broke a few bones, she could just tell.

They would be fine in a matter of hours. Until then, she needed to leave.

She needed to gather the rest of the Guardians, and from there…

Toothiana wasn't sure what would happen after that, but she was certain of one, just one, thing.

They needed to save Jack Frost.


End file.
